ulvens sønn
by Cannibalcorspe93
Summary: A young Blacksmith finds himself in a strange new land, surrounded by vicious Vikings. But he may find more than he thought. -little to no murderface.-
1. Pickles new pup

In the middle of a thick dense forest sat a small wooden building. A bar. Not to far away, to the east, was a simple village. Inside the bar sat a short, red haired man. Slowly sipping on a beer before heading back to his lonely life. Finishing it off finally, he gave out a long, drawn-out sigh.

"Uhhhh. I guess I should be headed back." He mumbled to the bar tender, who barely acknowledged hat he said anything in the first place. The man mumbled to himself a little, mostly a few insults towards the bartender, as he fished a bronze bar out of his pocket and slammed it down on the counter.

"Hey pickles, it's customary to tip." The bartender called out, holding his hand out towards the smaller man, who was getting out of his seat.

"It's also customary to not be a dick." Pickles shot back, fishing another bar out and handing it to the guy, shooting him a crooked, drunken smile. Pickles collected his sword and packed up his satchel. Walking out of the cabin he put his hand on the wooden frame of the door, thinking of the fact that this bar was the closest thing he had to a home.

Walking through the forest wasn't a correct way to say how he was moving, it was more of a stumble. But he knew his way back to his house no problem. He had did it many times, drunk, sober, when he ate those bad mushrooms and thought he was floating. He liked those mushrooms. Doesn't matter the state of mind, he could find his way back.

About 40 minutes of walking he finally came upon his house was closest to the edge of the forest. He liked it better that way, he didn't talk to a lot of people. He mostly kept to himself, being the town drunk and all. But the other half of his life was as the town blacksmith. Any type of metal was his to command. He could make anything out of nothing. He even worked with wood. He was good, beyond good.

The people of the town liked him, they just knew he drank. A lot. That didn't sit well with the fathers of the town. No father would marry his daughter off to the town drunk. That didn't stop the girls from sleeping with him though. Pickles may have not been the best looking man in the village, but he was the smoothest with his words. He could talk anyone into doing anything. The fathers still drank with him on occasion. None the wiser he deflowered most of their girls. Only the ones of age, though some liked the children, pickles always found that too weird.

Not too far from his home pickles looked over his shoulder to see something stocking him. A large set of eyes lay hidden in a bush, ready to ambush the second pickles let his guard down. Though he was drunk, pickles could still take it in a fight, he just prayed to Odin it wasn't a wolf. Those are harder to take down.

From inside the underbrush he heard a deep growl, "of course your a wolf." He mumbled, throwing down his satchel, unsheathing his sword. He readied himself before calling out. "Bring it on ya ugly beast." He stood his ground as he watched a large, white wolf emerge from the darkness of the night. How this wolf had hid its self from the light was beyond pickles. While the moonlight shown on his fir he light up like a fire. Bright and glowing he showed his fangs, threatening pickles to back off. That was the last thing on pickles mind.

"Are you just going to keep growling, or are you actually gonna do somethin?" Pickles challenged, shifting his stance, moving his sword in front of him, holding it with both hands. The wolf charged, locking his jaw on pickles calf. What it hadn't expected was that pickles had developed a guard around his legs, protecting him. The swung his sword down with all his strength, piercing it down between the creatures shoulder blades. He instantly dropped. His eyes draining of his life slowly, pickles didn't like to see anything suffer, so he thrust his sword into the wolfs skull. Killing it instantly.

Pickles started to drag his kill home, but something stopped him. A small yip from the bush behind him. He instantly dropped his prize and ran over to the bush. Inside was a small white pup with a black tail. It's eyes hadn't even opened yet. "Awe shit. Oh crap! I didn't know man, I seriously didn't know! What am I gonna do?" He paced back and forth, he looked to the pup, then to its mother, then back to the pup. He saw it start to shiver from the lack of body heat from its mother. "Fuck, fine!" He scooped the pup up as soon as it started to whine. He also grabbed his mothers body. He set the pup in his satchel and headed home. No point in wasting the meat or fur from the larger wolf.

"Guess I got a pet now." He mumbled to himself.

-authors note-

No I'm not done with my other story, I just wanted to start a new one. This is a Viking style story tho! I was inspired by vengefuleyes. So I hope you enjoy, I'll try and do both at the same time.


	2. Lykke til

Pickles finally arrived home, he dropped his kill off in his shed for the night before heading inside. By now his pup was whining quite a bit. He had one of the larger houses in the village, being the blacksmith his work shop was down stairs and the rest of his home was upstairs. He trudged upstairs, trying to sooth the wolf in his bag.

"Shut up now, everythin's gonna be okay." He cooed in a soft gentle voice. He had pulled the little guy out and was now holding him. The dog immediately calmed down when he felt the extra body heat. Pickles walked into his room and used his best blanket the make a bed for pup, then laying down himself.

"Well, good night I guess, I'm sorry about your mom." Pickles mumbled, rolling over to face the dog. He really did feel bad, the last thing he wanted to do was kill someone's family. His own had been brutally murdered by some Vikings his brother was trying to hang out with. Pickles himself was drunk down by the river, having fought with his dad earlier on. When he came back the neighbors had told him they heard the screams but had stayed hidden. He hated them for not helping, but really didn't blame them. His brother was an idiot.

As he thought about that, trying to fall asleep, he didn't notice the pup trying to find him in the dark, slowly crawling over on his belly. It finally found him just as he fell asleep, pickles unknowingly cuddled the puppy for the rest of the night.

He woke up early with a massive head ache and knits in his stomach. Holding his head he went to sit up but felt a weight on his leg, he looked down and smiled at the small dog cuddled close to him.

"Ya get cold or somethin?" Pickles questioned, petting the pup awake. All it did was yip at him and lay back down. "Ok, you keep sleeping, I got stuff to do anyways." Pickles explained as he covered the puppy back up. He got out of bed and changed his tunic, then headed down stairs. Once down he went out side and started to skin the wolf, it's pelt will make an excellent winter coat, or maybe a tunic, possibly blanket. Pickles wasn't sure yet. He then started to cut the meat away from the bone. Wolf was a little fatty for his taste but he wasn't gonna turn down good food.

As soon as he was done he started to get to work in his smithing station, he had had a pot of steel melting in his kiln all night, it should be done by now. Hammering that out he started to think about the pup again. It was the first time since he was a child that he actually cared about something other than himself. He decided to go check on the pup as he put his new sword into the water to cool it down.

Bringing it some deer meat, he went back to his room. "Hey little guy, I brought you some food, hopefully you can eat this crap." He said, scooping the pup into his arms. The dog lifted his head to look at pickles, finally opening his eyes. The dogs eyes were the most stunning shade of green, pickles couldn't help but think of his own eyes, not as beautiful, but just as green. There was an innocence behind those eyes. The pup started to eat the meat out of pickles hand as he petted it.

"Lykke til, you know what dat means?" He asked, petting the wolf on his head, "it means good luck. I know you haven't had that much, but I think it fits. I'll just call you Lykke, for short. How's dat sound?" Pickles picked lykke up, putting his nose on the pups snout. Lykke yippee in agreement.

Pickles watched Lykke grow up, in only a couple months he almost tripled in size, winter was coming and pickles was trying to stock up on food, he finally found a use for Lykke. He had made a slay, using him to haul things that were too heavy for himself. He had made a fine coat out of Lykkes mother, though he still felt bad about the whole ordeal, Lykke didn't really seem to care. Pickles was his mother now, Lykke was happy.

-authors note-

I google translated Lykke's name, so if it's wrong that blows hard. Don't worry, some action will happen next chapter. Thanks for reading!


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